


Dirty Secret/Risk

by kmandofan90



Series: NSFW Alphabet Series [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hints of gun play, Paz loves eating pussy, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex, cursing, face riding, oops i saw your face, you wear paz's bucket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23503354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmandofan90/pseuds/kmandofan90
Summary: Paz Vizla has a dirty secret that leads to the two of you taking risks.
Relationships: Paz Vizla/Reader, Paz Vizsla/Reader
Series: NSFW Alphabet Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664500
Comments: 14
Kudos: 141





	Dirty Secret/Risk

**Author's Note:**

> The karyai is defined at mandoa.org as the "main living room of a traditional north Mandalorian house - a single big chamber for eating, talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack." I'm treating it like a common area where people who aren't busy working gather to hang out, play games, and eat.

You’ve been in a mood all _week_. You aren’t quite sure what’s causing you to act like this. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight from all the kriffing rain outside, the cramped quarters, or the fact that Paz Fucking Vizla is being even more obnoxious than usual. Strutting around the fucking place like he owns it.

_Then again, he might as well own the place, considering no one else can compete with him as a Hunter._

Your jaw tightens as you start cleaning your blasters for the third time this week. Paz comes strolling by and peers over your shoulder. You tense up – you’ve never been a fan of people hovering over you.

Especially the people who annoy you. He reaches over and points at a minute fleck of dust on the handle.

“Missed a spot,” he says casually.

Very slowly, calmly, you put the blaster down. You don’t want him to think he’s gotten to you. You also don’t want to be tempted to shoot his overly-armored blue ass. You turn your head slightly to look up at him.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“I’m bored, and you’re easy to rile up,” he remarks.

You inhale slowly.

“I’m not in the mood right now, Vizla,” you say flatly.

“Back to Vizla now, are we?” he asks, leaning in further.

His massive hand settles at your waist, slowly teasing up toward your chest plate. You inhale.

“Paz Vizla,” you warn.

Cautiously, he steps in closer, his helmet coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“I’m in the mood for some fun,” he purrs.

As you lean back to give him better access to your neck, he groans and nuzzles closer. His free hand finds your thigh and he strokes his way up from behind, sending goosebumps of pleasure shooting straight into your crotch.

“What sort of fun do you want?” you ask, a soft noise escaping you as his fingers curl around your rib cage.

He pulls away a bit.

“So easy to rile you up,” he purrs.

It feels like cold water has filled your helmet. The icy feeling in you is quickly replaced with burning white _rage_. He is _playing_ with you, like you’re some sort of _toy_. Steeling yourself, you reach up and elbow him. Not to hurt him, but to startle him.

He does precisely what you want and takes a step back. You grab your blasters, stuff them into their holsters, and leave the _karyai_ without another word to him. That son of a _bitch_ , you think to yourself, as you head into the lockers. An icy-cold shower does _not_ help your mood at all. Instead, it fans the flames in the pit of your belly.

You’re pissed _and_ horny. So you decide to go kick the shit out of someone in the sparring rings. Unfortunately, evening drills are coming to an end, and as you step into the locker room, you can see people starting to file in to take a shower. Fuck. No sparring partner, then. The punching bag would bear your temper tonight, then.

How fucking dare he try to play you? If only you’d been quicker to think, you lament, you could have shot him. Too bad the Armorer would have likely reamed your ass out for shooting one of the Tribe’s best hunters. You grumble. Rage makes your hands tremble as you swap to your workout clothes – loose shorts and a too-big shirt that could pass as a dress. Briefly, you wonder who you had liberated it from. It fell to your thighs, but at least it wasn’t clingy.

You place your armor into your locker. Your clan is a more liberal one. Armor can occasionally come off if you are working out or at risk for heat stroke. That is one thing you appreciate about the Armorer – no matter how strict _their_ creed is, they allow you to follow yours within their home. You do, however, keep your bucket, belt, and holsters. It is a habit you have no intention of breaking.

As you start working on the punching bag, you notice that the workout room has cleared out completely. You turn on the 360-degree view cameras and find that Paz is stalking toward you. You keep hitting the bag, pretending to not notice his presence. As he reaches for your shoulder, you grab his wrist and pull, flipping him forward.

He _clearly_ does not expect that from you. You are, after all, a tradesperson, and you don’t often run drills. As he stumbles, you kick the back of his knee and send him down onto the ground with a very heavy thud. He grunts as he lands. You lunge forward onto him, straddling his hips at the same time that you shove the barrel of your blaster under his chin.

“Don’t fuck with me, Paz Vizla,” you say through gritted teeth. “How _dare_ you try to play me.”

“I wasn’t trying to play you,” he says, keeping quite still.

“And what the _fuck_ do you call what you did in the _karyai_?” you ask him, your voice low and threatening.

“Woman, I was _trying_ to flirt with you.”

You tilt your helmet. Paz Vizla is a truthful man, to the point where he has come to blows over someone accusing him of lying. As you think, he reaches up for your hands.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he insists. “I’m not good at the flirting thing.”

“Hands under your bucket,” you say flatly.

He doesn’t even hesitate to obey you. Kind of makes you wonder if he enjoys being told what to do. You put the thought from your mind. Reaching down, you undo the leather straps holding his codpiece in place.

“Is the door locked?”

“Yes,” he says, his voice a few notes higher than normal. “Locked. Completely.”

Satisfied, you nod.

“Don’t. Move.”

Rising up, you undo the straps holding the holsters to your thighs. Then you slide your shorts and panties off, kicking them aside. Then you redo the straps, just to make sure he knows you’re not fucking around. Paz’s swallow is visible through the material of his cowl, his cock twitching underneath you.

You settle yourself directly onto his cock to grind down onto that hard, throbbing ridge in his pantleg. Paz gasps quietly and a rich moan escapes his vocal modulator. When his hands move, you jam the blaster into his throat and his cock throbs violently.

_Hmm, looks like he likes the blaster._

It’ll make things interesting in the future, if he’s a good enough lay. He lets out a little keening noise, one that sends an unexpected bolt of white-hot pleasure shooting through you.

You don’t know if it’s the noises he’s making or the fact that he is getting off on you holding a blaster under his chin, but his trousers are sopping wet, and you’ve barely gotten started. You set an easy pace, one that lets you drag your clit along his length. Having him here underneath you, helpless and at your mercy, has you soaked and ready to come. You take it slow. You want him to _suffer_.

He lays there, his chest heaving, as you pleasure yourself against his erection. When you finally come, you have to stifle a moan as the crotch of your panties grow soaked. Glancing down, you see that the material over his cock is drenched and shiny with your pleasure. Paz twitches his hips up against yours, presumably to get your attention with his erection.

_Probably should reward him or something_.

“Do you trust me, Paz?” you ask softly.

“Yeah,” he says. “What are you going to do?”

You undo the knot in the side of your shirt and lower yourself onto his upper half. You crawl forward, pressing your knees down onto his arms. Sliding forward, you press yourself against his helmet.

“This okay?” you ask him, as you drape the hem of your shirt over the lower half of his head.

“Yeah,” he says, “More than okay. Gotta pull my cowl down – “

You keep the shirt pinned firmly in place as you nudge his bucket back slowly. You maintain pressure on it so it doesn’t just roll off his head when it gets far down enough. Once you can feel his breath on your thighs, you tap on his visor.

“You can pull your cowl down,” you say. “I’m looking away now. Let me know when I can look back.”

You tilt your head pointedly to the side so he can adjust his clothing. Once it’s out of the way, he returns his hands under his head, holding his bucket in place.

“Alright, safe,” he says. “Your pussy looks so fucking good, babygirl. I can’t wait to have you in my mouth, wanna feel you leak all over my face – “

“I’m gonna come at least twice,” you say. “Then I might let you touch me.”

“Whatever you want,” he says. “Just let me taste you, please – “

“If anything starts to move, grab my thigh, and I’ll close my eyes,” you say.

“Yeah,” he grunts, and you slide forward.

He doesn’t even try to tease you. His tongue goes straight to your slit, where he starts lapping at you. You sigh with pleasure as you let your head fall back. You give him a few moments to adjust before rocking slowly against his mouth. His tongue swipes from your slit to your pearl and you _moan_ as his head lifts to chase. You rest your weight on your hands, grinding your cunt against his face, not caring if you are soaking his beard. Judging by the noises he is making, he doesn’t care at all, either. Leaning forward a bit, you tap his visor gently to get his attention. His mouth breaks away from you, leaving your clit aching for contact.

“Want your tongue in me,” you say. “Squeeze when you need air?”

“Do whatever you want, babygirl,” he responds, “Just want you in my mouth – “

You cut him off by pressing down into his mouth, your eyes rolling back as he immediately plunges his tongue into you. You decide to reward him for having such a nimble tongue.

“Ohh, _Paz_ ,” you moan, grinding down onto him. “Feel so good – “

His tongue presses deeper in, like he’s trying to memorize your insides. This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done in your life by far. Sure, you’ve had other lovers, but not one like Paz. This is the man who carries a small army’s worth of firearms and ammunition. Captain of the Fighting Corps and Range Master. Thousands of fights under his ammo belt. Hundreds of bounties turned in successfully. Best hunter of the Tribe. Hell, he has knocked people on their asses for talking to him in the wrong _tone_ of voice.

And here he is, on his back, his face buried in your cunt.

Begging you to ride his face.

Obedient. So, so _fucking obedient_.

His hand squeezes your thigh and you lift up immediately. He gulps down a few breaths before he pulls you back down. His desperation is more than you can handle – it knocks you right over the edge, and you come with a shriek. Paz pulls down on your hips, forcing you down onto his mouth, his tongue working at your clit. You moan and buck against him, crying out as he works you to that second orgasm rapidly. You come in seconds, your body convulsing. Paz keeps you pinned firmly in place above him, even when you’re finished and weak.

“Need you to let go,” you say hoarsely.

“Bucket,” he responds.

You notice that his bucket has rolled away. Reaching for it, you decide to fuck with him. You pick it up.

“Turn the camera off,” you say to him.

“What?” he asks. “Why?”

“Paz, do what I tell you to do,” you say patiently.

You tilt the microphone toward where you think his mouth is.

“All cameras off,” he says.

“Do not move,” you say firmly.

You reach up and pull your own helmet off. You blink as the light floods your eyes. Then you pick up his bucket and put it on. Completely dark. It smells like him, but not in an unpleasant way. You can also smell something like soap and leather. You like it.

“Alright,” you say. “How about we make things more interesting, Paz?”

“How, babygirl?” he asks.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Lift my shirt,” you say.

He hesitates for two full seconds before he obeys. Then you hear him curse as he takes you in, wearing _his_ helmet. You shift backwards blindly, working his zipper down so you can free his erection. His cock is a bit longer than average, so you know you can take the length. His girth is what worries you. You can barely wrap your fingers around his shaft.

_Fuck_ , you think to yourself.

You’re no coward, though. No matter how big it is, you _are_ going to get it inside you.

“I would really like to be in you,” he says. “Please.”

“Would you look at that?” you say, in mock marvel. “Paz Vizla has _manners_.”

“Please, babygirl,” he repeats, his voice a bit plaintive. “I need you.”

It breaks you, hearing him ask so sweetly.

“Alright, Paz,” you whisper. “I’ll give you what you want, but I need you to get your cock nice and slick for me, alright?”

“Whatever you want,” he agrees.

You feel him shift underneath you. Then you hear soft, wet sounds as he strokes his saliva along his shaft. Once his cock is nicely lubricated, you position it underneath yourself. The head probes at your slit, teasing your walls apart. Slowly, you lower yourself onto him. The ridge catches a bit as you start bobbing down onto him, taking him a bit deeper each time.

You can feel Paz’s body quivering.

“I’m very happy with you right now, Paz,” you say. “You’ve done _everything_ I told you to do, without complaining.”

“I’m good at following orders,” he responds.

“If you keep behaving, I’ll even let you cum in me,” you say casually.

His hips jerk up hard at that. You grin at his response to your words. You had been planning to let him cum in you regardless. Biting down on your lip, you take him in one firm thrust, sliding down until your clit presses up against his public bone.

You can’t help the pathetic sob that escapes you as he moans.

“Oh, _Maker_ ,” you moan. “You’re going to break me apart, Paz.”

Something garbled comes out of his mouth.

Staying still, you give yourself a little bit to adjust to that aching stretch inside. When you’ve caught your breath, you lift your hips until his ridge catches on you and he threatens to fall out of you.

“Stay very still for me, Paz,” you say casually.

_“Fuck_ ,” he moans plaintively. “Please let me, babygirl – “

“Ah, ah,” you scold, “You are not going to move an inch, not if you want to cum in me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants. “I’ll stay still.”

You grin and lean forward to rest some of your weight on his chest. He wears more than fifty kilos of armor; you figure he can take your weight on him. You start rolling your hips, taking him until he hits something that makes you see stars. True to his word, Paz doesn’t move a single inch, though you can feel his entire body quivering between your thighs. Occasionally, you hear him curse, but he does _exactly_ what he is told to do.

Part of you wants to punish his dirty mouth. The other part of you wants to reward him amply for doing everything you’ve told him to do. Your hand falls to your clit and you start rubbing in quick circles, your breath hitching in your throat. When your cunt starts to throb, you tilt your head down.

“Alright, Paz, I’m about to come,” you say. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Yes,” he gets through grit teeth. _“Please_. Need-need to come – “

Your thighs burn, but you don’t care, not when you’re so close. Reaching that edge, you cry out his name and that knot in your belly breaks, sending deep waves of pleasure shooting through your entire body. You grind down on him through your orgasm until he curses one last time, his entire body going taut underneath you. His cock jerks inside of you as he unloads, filling you until it starts to trickle back out. You remain perched on him, your bodies intimately joined, as you rest and regain your breath.

He stays half-hard throughout it all, his breath coming raggedly. You reach out with one hand. Paz takes your hand. You lean up and press your hand to his stubbly cheek. He doesn’t respond, but you can hear him panting. Good, he isn’t asleep. Lifting your shirt, you raise your hips up and he falls out with a wet noise. When you’ve caught your breath, you rise off him.

“Paz, you still with me?” you ask.

Of course, he is – he’s not going anywhere without his bucket.

“Yeah, ‘m here,” he says, his voice a bit rough. “What do you want, babygirl?”

“Grab my stuff and come with me,” you say.

His bucket is way too big for you, so you can lift the edge a bit to see where you are going. You hit the button for the lights in the locker room. There, you lead the way to a private shower stall. Stripping down completely, you put everything onto the narrow bench by the stall door.

You swallow and grasp his hand.

“How about you fuck me again?” you ask casually.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he swears.

He turns the water on. You take his bucket off and put it on the counter and stretch your neck muscles out. It’s too big and too heavy for you. The rest of your clothes and weapons follow. He follows you into the shower cubicle. The floor is made of rough concrete, so you aren’t worried about slipping and falling. Paz leans down for a proper kiss, while you stand on tiptoe, trying to reach his mouth properly. Paz steps forward and lifts you effortlessly. You twin your arms around his neck, a thrill filling you at just how damned _strong_ he is. He probes at your lower lips for a moment before he lowers you onto it and sheathes himself in one slick thrust. You sigh with pleasure.

The hot water courses over your bodies as he slides in and out of you, grinding achingly deep and slow. You pepper his face with kisses, tenderly tracing his facial features with your fingers. You stare into that place where you imagine his eyes to be. You can feel that heat swelling in your belly as you spiral closer and closer to orgasm.

“ – _the fuck turned the lights off_?”

“Don’t turn them on!” Paz says, but it’s too late.

The lights flicker on. Neither of you can help yourselves. Your eyes meet and you both freeze. His eyes are so blue, you think to yourself, your mouth falling open in a tiny ‘o’. He exhales gustily.

“Was that you shouting, Paz?” someone asks.

“Never mind,” he says back.

“You said – “

“Never mind,” Paz snaps.

“Whatever,” the person says. You hear the footsteps retreat.

Paz steals another glance. He’s handsome, with streaks of silver in his hair and beard. You didn’t know he was that much older than you. Before you can speak, he slants his mouth over yours for a deep kiss. You hesitantly return it for a few moments. Then you tighten your arms around his neck and return it enthusiastically. He starts moving again.

“Paz,” you whisper harshly, “What are you doing?”

“Never been the type of leave a job unfinished,” he responds. “Can worry about this later.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper.

As you lock eyes with him, he continues thrusting into you, each stroke fanning the flames inside of you higher and higher. It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to reach completion once more. You bite down on his shoulder to keep quiet – there are other people in the locker room. He follows, his cock throbbing and jumping inside of you. He groans quietly.

Fifteen minutes later finds you two putting your clean clothes and armor back on. The idiots _still_ haven’t left the locker room, so the two of you decide to just exit the cubicle. Everything goes silent as you come out. Paz follows.

“Finally,” Tel says sourly. “You do realize that’s the only stall with working hot water, right?”

You keep your head held up as you stride by.

“Fuck off,” you snap.

“So cranky,” Tel mocks. “What, did Vizla not satisfy you? He’s had well over a fucking _hour_ to get you off.”

Before you can retort, you hear a mighty clang, a yelp from Tel, and a loud clatter.

“Shut your fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you,” Paz warns, lowering his fist to his side.

Tel picks himself up off the ground. You just start laughing. The two of you will figure out the whole “we saw each other’s face” thing later. For now, you need a nap.

-

-

-

(In the end, it doesn’t really matter that the two of you have seen each other’s faces. The Armorer scolds you both for thinking with the equipment in your trousers. Then she tells you to repeat your oaths to the Creed to make up for it. She does, however, warn you that if it happens again, she has no qualms with forcing the two of you to marry.)

**Author's Note:**

> Ending a reference to this: https://spaceasianmillennial.tumblr.com/post/189979736486/the-armorer-probably-did-a-lot-of-crazy-counseling


End file.
